by D. S. Murphy
“You can’t hurt me,” I said, more bravely than I felt. “Damien chose me. I’m his. Touch me and I’m sure he’ll think of a creative way to punish you.”
“Maybe. For now,” he leered. “But do you really think he cares about you? You don’t mean anything to him, he was just trying to spoil my fun. Why do you think he passed on you at the choosing ceremony? He’ll get bored of being your champion, and send you back, a ruined woman. After that, you’ll be all mine.”
Claire’s eyes widened, apparently she hadn’t heard a full account of my choosing ceremony.
Just then Jessica came out of the practice room. She looked startled to see us all, but pushed past it.
“You came to pick me up!” she said, flashing Thomas a dazzling smile and wrapping her arms around him. She planted a wet kiss on his cheek.
“What can I say,” he grinned. “It is almost dinner time after all. And I invited Nigel to eat with us.”
He let one hand drop and and I saw him squeeze Jessica’s butt. Jessica’s face paled, but she recovered quickly.
“Stop!” she said playfully, punching him. “You’re too naughty. Besides I’m all sweaty, class was brutal.”
“I’ll bet you kicked everyone’s ass,” Thomas said.
“Why don’t you two show us what you learned?” Nigel said, nodding towards me. There was hunger in his eyes; an eagerness that turned my blood cold.
“Maybe another time,” I said. “Damien is waiting.”
There was a long pause, but finally Nigel nodded, and Thomas stepped aside, with a flourish that was almost a mock bow. Claire and I practically sprinted through the maze-like passageways and floating bridges of the citadel back to our apartment.
9
After I got back to my room I took a shower and changed into some comfortable clothes. I was about to collapse on the bed when there was a knock on the door.
I hesitated before opening.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“It’s Damien,” came the voice on the other side. “I thought you might like some dinner.”
I opened the door a crack, expecting him to hand me a plate of food or something.
He was wearing a nice looking jacket and a crisp white shirt with some kind of tie. His leather shoes looked freshly polished, and he’d even combed his hair. I didn’t think he could get any more handsome, but he cleaned up good.
I, meanwhile, was wearing sweats and my hair was still wrapped up in a towel.
“You might want to put on something a little more… well, more.” He said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. My cheeks flushed.
“Give me a second,” I said. I felt stupid having Annette dress me yesterday, but now I wished she or Claire were around. I had a dozen fancy dresses and no idea what to wear. Finally I picked out a simple black dress, that was elegant without being flashy or revealing. The embroidered collar went all the way up to my neck.
I pulled my hair back into a quick ponytail and pinched my cheeks. Surprisingly, I didn’t look half bad, even after the excruciating workout. It must be the extra elixir in my veins. I pulled on a lightweight jacket, and closed the door behind me.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I thought you might want to see where I live,” Damien said. “I’ve prepared some food already.”
My eyes lit up, I wasn’t looking forward to going out in public anyway. Dinner at home sounded perfect. A small part of me was nervous about being alone with Damien. But a larger part was thrilled that he even wanted to spend time with me, especially after what Nigel had told me earlier. We were still basically strangers, even though we might be getting married in a few weeks. Being chosen had always seemed so glamorous, but I realized now the hard part came afterwards.
Damien’s house, if you could call it that, was only a few minutes away. We passed across an outdoor bridge, covered and lined with statues of people I didn’t recognize, and turned right—then the building was in front of us. We were in one of the oldest parts of the citadel, near the center. The rectangular building had four round towers that rose in height like stair steps towards the sky. Each tower was crowned with a bright torch of yellow flame. The whole structure was built on the edge of a massive boulder, cutting into the fortress walls. The front door was a drawbridge that connected with a thin bridge across a deep crack in the bedcrock. We were so high up, the mist obscured the trees far below us.
“You grew up here?” I asked, hesitating at the far end of the bridge and peering down into the depths beneath.
“Not exactly,” Damien said. “I grew up in the Before. Just a regular boy, going to school. Playing soccer. My father and I moved here after we became elites, after the Culling. When we were being hunted by humans.”
My eyes widened. Damien had never told me so much about himself before. He’d been around since the Before. I’d heard that some of the elite were that old, but I thought it was just a rumor.
“And your mother?” I asked.
Damien’s face contorted and there was a flash of anger and an emotion I couldn’t read.
“She didn’t make it,” he said finally.
He reached for my hand, and held it as we crossed the bridge. His hands were cold, but gentle. Once inside, he took my coat and opened the door to a wide room with arched ceilings. Massive chandeliers hung from chains over a long dining table. Two arrangements of Jasmine filled the otherwise empty space. Damien pulled out a chair for me and sat at the far end of the table. He’d barely taken his seat when a side door opened and several servants entered with plates of food. They put all the plates near me and filled my glass with wine, then disappeared back into the kitchen.
“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” I asked, looking over at Damien’s empty plate and glass.
“I’ve already eaten,” he said. “Go ahead without me.”
Now that all this delicious food was in front of me, I was hungry. I piled my plate with meatloaf, potatoes and gravy, and peas. There was also a whole roasted chicken, some kind of bone broth soup and a handful of dishes I didn’t even recognize.
It was a little creepy that Damien was just watching me eat. I felt stupid for not knowing more about the elites. Did they even eat food? Or only human blood? If so, what—or who—had he eaten earlier? Part of me felt insulted. After all, Damien chose me as his consort. Didn’t that mean he was supposed to feed on me? Wasn’t that what I was here for?
“How are you enjoying the citadel so far?” Damien asked.
At least he was finally breaking the silence. I cringed each time my silver utensils clashed against the dishes, and the sound carried in the voluminous room.
“It’s great,” I mumbled with my mouth full. “I mean, I’ve only been here a day. It’s kind of overwhelming. The food though, the food is amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he said.
“Is this all for me?” I frowned as the servants brought three more dishes out. Fish, steamed brussel sprouts with garlic and some kind of spicy curry with rice. This much food could have fed my whole family at home, and I would have invited Trev and Amber over for dinner as well.
“You don’t need to finish it,” Damien said, folding his fingers together on the table. He looked ridiculously dashing against the background of the room. Tapestries hung behind him, showing some kind of battle scene, and a large fireplace with an engraved mantle housed a glowing fire. The light reflected off the golden frames of two large oil paintings, without piercing the dark shadows of the portraits looking down at us.
“I just thought you might want to taste some new dishes. Once you find out what you like, the cooks can make it for you whenever you want.”
“You mean you didn’t cook this yourself?” I teased.
He smiled, and raised an eyebrow.
“Would you like me to cook for you?”
“You have important things to do,” I said, looking down at my plate.
“You’re important,” he said. “To me.”
I bit my lip, wondering if I’d missheard him, or if he was going to qualify that statement somehow. Instead he just let it hang in the open. It felt like he’d just confessed something intimate. Somehow the space between us warmed, even though he was on the far end of the massive table. A private dinner, now this?
At the compound, I’d always thought being chosen was a compromise—the unpleasant experience of sharing our blood with an elite, in exchange for a comfortable life in the citadel of lights. Now that I was here, however, letting Damien feed on me didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. The thought of him gripping me against his body, sinking his teeth into my neck, filled me emotions I’d never felt before.
Which kind of pissed me off. Sure, he was charming and handsome right now, but he wasn’t always. Sometimes he seemed like a total jerk. He rarely smiled and seemed to be slightly annoyed with almost everything, like life had let him down somewhere and he’d never quite recovered. Plus, I hated thinking that Trevor was right, and his words repeated in my ears. You want to be that bloodsucker’s mate, don’t you?
I’d denied it at the time, but now my body was rebelling against me. Thinking about Trevor made me think about home, which made me feel guilty eating all this food, in a private mansion. Being waited on by servants. I wondered what would happen with all the extra food I couldn’t eat, that had been cooked for my pleasure. Thrown away, probably. I bet it was all from the compounds. We spent months growing food just to have the elites throw it away.
“What’s wrong?” Damien asked.
Shit, could he read me that easily? I’d have to be more careful with my emotions.
“Nothing,” I said. “It’s just, all this—I’m not used to it. I guess I’m a little homesick.”
It was close enough to the truth, and Damien seemed to buy it.
“Would you like to write them a letter? I can have someone deliver it tomorrow.”
My jaw went slack with surprise. People sent letters between the compounds with traders, but it usually took weeks. I nodded, and he stood up and walked towards me.
“Then, if you’re finished, let me show you around.”
I followed him through another door to the side of the dining hall, which led through a gallery full of paintings, and then across a tiled floor with a sweeping staircase. We walked past it towards a door on the other side of the hall.
“What’s upstairs?” I asked, running my hand over the smooth banister.
“The bedrooms,” Damien said. “I’m not sure you need to see those tonight, unless you have some suggestion.”
I blushed. He seemed to enjoy teasing me.
He pushed open the oak door into a wide library with tall ceilings. The walls were lined with tall bookcases, filled with hundreds of books. There were so many shelves, a ladder had been built into the wall to reach them. In the center of the room was a large oak desk, with a smooth surface and handcarved whorls in the sturdy legs. Behind it were two leather chairs with red padding. On either side of the room were large bay windows. Several comfortable looking chairs and couches were tucked into nooks and corners, along with an antique grandfather clock.
“Can this be my room?” I asked.
“I’m usually in here, studying or writing correspondence for my father. But you’re welcome to join me anytime. I’ll leave the doors unlocked if you want to drop by—as long as you don’t remove any of the books. We furnish the compounds with libraries, but the inventory is selective. There are books in my library that could be upsetting to humans. Too much knowledge can be dangerous.”
I nodded, though I didn’t understand what he meant. How could books be dangerous? I’d spent most of my childhood in Algrave’s town library. I probably read every single book three times. But it was nothing like this. I ran my fingers over the smooth leather bindings and frayed canvas edges. As far as I knew, books weren’t printed anymore, though I had seen small educational pamphlets in the compound.
Damien went to the desk and pulled out a drawer filled with stacks of paper and envelopes, then he pulled out the chair for me. He sat on a large green couch, reading a book, while I wrote a note to my mother. It had only been a couple days, so I didn’t have a lot to tell her, but I wanted her to know I was okay and thinking about her.
I sent a note to Amber as well, because she’d kill me if I had the opportunity to write but didn’t. I was tempted to tell her a lot more, but I hesitated to put anything important in the letter. I glanced over at Damien, who seemed absorbed in his book. Would he read these later? What about the messenger?
I thought about writing to Trevor, but I wasn’t sure what to say. I wanted to ask him about the man he’d been talking to in Algrave, but something about their encounter made me hesitate. It was weird I’d seen him in the woods, and that he’d moved so fast. If he was human, where did he get so much elixir? Something Trev said stuck with me. There are other ways to get blood from an elite. But we were attacked by slagpaw, not rebels. I didn’t want to bring it up with Damien in case I accidentally got Trevor in trouble. I could only hope he wasn’t involved in something stupid. Instead I just added a line to Amber’s message to watch out for him.
When I finished, Damien poured red wax across the seal and stamped it with a royal seal. He was showing me he wasn’t going to read the notes; that he trusted me and was giving me privacy. It was a small kindness, but the gesture was appreciated.
He opened the door, but I paused halfway through the threshhold and turned back to him. I didn’t realize how close we were, squeezed between the door frame, but I didn’t want to leave the comfort of the library without sharing my gratitude.
“Thank you,” I said. “I never really wanted to be chosen, but I’m glad it was you.”
Damien took a strained breath in through his nose and closed his eyes. His body seemed tense, and I saw him curl his fingers into fists. When he looked at me again, there was an intense heat in his eyes that spread warmth through my whole body. My lips parted involuntarily and I wet my lips with my tongue. My heart was pounding, and I saw his eyes flick down and look at my neck with a kind of painful longing. Then he reached out for me. I learned forward, expecting him to pull me towards him. Instead, he slammed the door shut with such force I was practically thrown out of his office.
10
I was early to class the next morning. It was hard to leave my bed, which was dangerously comfortable, but after waking up at dawn, my thoughts still spinning from the night before, I needed to do something physical to take my mind off Damien. He’d been so charming at dinner, I could have sworn he was flirting with me. He said I was important. But then he’d pulled away—like he couldn’t stand to be close to me. Claire made me a soft-boiled egg with toast and jam, then we headed to the gym. On the way I marvelled at the scent of fresh fruit and baked pastries, as street vendors set up their booths for the day.
I wasn’t the only one up early. Two other girls were already in our classroom when I arrived. They grabbed weapons off the rack and began swinging them around like they knew what they were doing. The one with dark skin and almond-shaped eyes picked out a pair of short swords. The other was tall and proud, with hair and skin so white it looked like someone had drained her of color. She grabbed a long, straight stick and spun it around the back of her hand, then tossed it in the air before catching it again mid-spin. She bent down in a crouch and beckoned with her finger. The darker one charged forward, stabbing and slashing with her blades. It made me cringe just watching them, but it was thrilling. I realized I was eager to learn more combat moves. Yesterday I got a small taste of what it would feel like to be able to defend myself, and I loved it.
The blond blocked each attack with one end of the staff, then suddenly slapped the stick down hard on the darker girl’s forearm, who cried out in pain. The blond caught the other girl’s neck with the staff and forced her backwards, while sweeping a leg low to trip her. I held my breath, but the shorter girl dropped her weapons and latched onto the s
tick with both hands, dragging the blond down on top of her. Then she put her feet up, catching the other girl’s weight with her legs and tossing her into a pile at my feet. She groaned, blinking up at me.
“You want in on this?” she asked, holding out her hand.
I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I thought she wanted help up, so I reached out to her, but she just slapped my hand and rolled away. I looked up just in time to see the dark haired girl running towards me. I barely had time to react, throwing my hands up into a hasty block as the girl rained punches down on me. I tried to remember what we learned in class yesterday, but she was moving too fast, and the moves seemed far less predictable than the few simple attacks Mrs. Svboda taught us.
Finally I gave up trying to block and threw a punch towards her face. It connected with her nose and she blinked in surprise. She wiped a drop of blood off her cheek with the back of her hand, smearing it across her face, then grinned wildly.
“She can fight!” she said. “Kind of.”
Then she spun and her foot connected with my jaw. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground seeing stars, in more pain than I’d ever felt before. The blond girl was at my side, feeling my neck carefully and assessing the damage. She waved her fingers in front of my face and I blinked.
“She’s fine,” the darker girl said. “I barely touched her.”
“You know most of these girls haven’t been trained,” the blond said. “You could have seriously hurt her.”
“So what?” the girl shot back. “Two drops a day, remember? She’ll be fine.”
“I’m Camina,” the blond said. “And that’s Jazmine.”
“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” I asked. Weapons were practically forbidden in Algrave, and public altercations ended with a night spent in jail. These girls seemed like they’d been training for years.
